


Somebody Out There, Just Waiting for Me

by Mimi011



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: F/M, It's actually rare to find your soulmate, Just something cute, M/M, Soulmates, implied period-typical homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-09-01 15:04:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16767508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimi011/pseuds/Mimi011
Summary: There's seven billion people on this earth, and the only way to find your perfect someone, your soulmate, is to hear them. Fortunately, the first words they speak to you appear on your skin the morning of your sixteenth birthday. Everyone knows the special phrase they're waiting for, but only a handful of people ever hear them.Never in their wildest dreams would Freddie and Jim think they'd be among those lucky few.





	1. Chapter 1

Jim Hutton held the little markings littered across his body as little more than decorative. They were cute, honestly; Jim figured his soulmate must be a romantic of some sort. With “somebody to love” written across his chest, how could they not be? He figured that, if or when they ever met, Jim would say his soulmate’s special words first- and then they would follow with the phrase splayed across his chest, somehow. Just like everyone else, he used to daydream about the perfect meeting.

They would both be in a flower shop, buying flowers for some reason or another. What mattered was that the scenery was romantic. John would bump into him by accident, turn and say, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, excuse me,” or something else polite to make a good impression.

Then his soulmate would meet his eyes. A smile would play across his rosy lips, and, having recognized the apology written across his body, he would say, “Somebody to love.”

Even in Jim’s head, the scenario felt unrealistic. How it would actually play out was much stranger.

It was 1976. Jim and Sammy had been dating for a couple of months. They knew they weren’t each other’s soulmates, but it didn’t matter to them. Sammy was good to him. For the most part, they were happy together. Sure, their relationship couldn’t “complete” them like their soulmates could, but dating Sammy was fulfilling nonetheless.

The handsome, freckle-faced ginger drove them to a nice lookout point near the sea. Stars twinkled in the deep, dark sky above them. The car radio set the mood as Jim moved to kiss his lover.

Suddenly, the station went out. Sammy pulled away from their kiss, much to Jim’s disdain.

“Sorry, I’ll just change the station-”

“I don’t mind the static,” Jim said. “Or you could just turn it off.”

“No, I want this to be perfect,” said the ginger, fiddling with the dial. Jim leaned back in his seat, frustrated by the interruption.

The radio channels flipped a couple times, through opera to folk to pop, until Sammy found a station he was happy with.

_“ -somebody to love! Ohhh, ohhh, ahhh ah ah!”_

Sam’s eyes widened in shock when he recognized the words splayed across his boyfriend’s chest. He turned to Jim and saw his brown eyes trained on the radio, completely forgetting the world around him as the sensation of hearing his soulmate’s first words flooded into his soul.

Jim’s heart stopped in his chest. His body tingled with electricity, flooded with endorphins and adrenaline and all sorts of other chemicals. It was nature sending him a message- these were his words. There was not a sliver of doubt in his mind. This man singing on the radio was his soulmate.

For the first time in years, Jim allowed himself to hope.

\---

_1962_

Freddie’s sixteenth birthday came and went while he was away at school. His friends badgered him to see his new marks, the ones connecting him to his soulmate, but every time they asked Freddie refused to let them see. Sabih was the first to propose they take matters into their own hands.

Mahim and Mannan stood on either side of their friend’s bed, each grasping an end of his blanket as they pulled the cover away from him sleeping body. He was wearing his usual pajamas, some of the clothes the school gave them at the beginning of the year. Unfortunately, the sleepwear had long sleeves and pants. They would have to completely undress Freddie to get a look at his skin.

“What if it’s on his dick?” Mannan whispered when Sabih started carefulling unbuttoning Freddie’s shirt. “Maybe that’s why he hasn’t shown it to us.”

“It could be a generic phrase, like ‘hello’ or something,” offered Mahim as he slowly pulled down Freddie’s pants.

“God, that’d be boring, wouldn’t it?” said Mannan with a smirk.

Sabih made a sour face. “Just because my words are ‘good morning’, you assholes,” he muttered.

Mahim snickered, struggling to stay quiet.

“Oh? What’ve we got here, boys?” Mannan announced, noticing the beginnings of dark ink against the tan skin of Freddie’s pelvis.

Sabih and Mahim watched on in anticipation as Mannan slowly revealed their classmate’s words. Soon the neat print was completely visible to them in the pale moonlight.

Their mischievous mood drained away immediately. For a minute, they said nothing, unsure of what to think about the implications of their discovery.

Sabih spoke first, barely managing, “But- but that’s-”

\---

The next week, Freddie was dropped off by a cab in front of his family’s apartment. A dark expression had settled on his strong features days ago and refused to leave. He heaved his suitcase over the curb and carried it to his front door.

He knocked. The beat sounded like the beginnings of a death march.

His mother opened the door. “Farrokh-” she greeted in a soft voice that was meant to be comforting, but did nothing to calm her son’s nerves. They both knew what was going to happen.

Freddie pushed past her, murmuring “Hello, Mama,” and sat his luggage in front of the stairs.

He turned to the parlor. Everything was exactly as he’d left it months ago- magazines on the table, cricket on the telly, his father sitting silently in his chair. The only difference was his father’s stern eyes, now staring at Freddie with an anger so burning, the teen felt as though his gaze alone was singeing him.

Freddie swallowed the lump building in his throat, unsure how to speak to his father after everything that happened in the past week.

Carefully, he tried, “Papa, I-”

“Show it to me,” his father demanded lowly, his anger barely restrained.

Freddie hesitated, suddenly frozen by his nerves.

“Show it to me, Farrokh,” he repeated. “I won’t ask again.”

The young man nodded, suddenly hyper-aware of his body. His lungs expanded with each shaky breath, and his heart beat steadily faster. The mark on his hip seemed to burn and blister with each second that passed.

With shaking hands, Freddie undid his belt buckle and pulled down the waist of his pants. His soulmate’s first words to him were clear against his outline of his pelvis.

Freddie heard his father inhale deeply once he read his words.

“There’s an explanation for this,” his mother said, breaking the silence. “They shouldn’t have expelled you. We can’t know for sure if-”

“Farrokh,” Mr. Bulsara interrupted, addressing his son again. “You know why you are here, instead of away at school?”

Freddie nodded, eyes downcast. His father tilted his chin upwards so he could look at his son down the bridge of his nose.

“Was the reason behind your expulsion legitimate?” his father asked him darkly. His expression was furious, but Freddie saw how his eyes were pleading, hoping for a certain answer.

It was the look in his father’s eyes that made Freddie feel sick from guilt; guilt of what he knew he wanted, _needed_ to do. His father’s favorite saying rang through his head as he made his decision.

_Good thoughts, good words, good deeds._

To Freddie, it translated to _damned if he did, damned if he didn’t._

Freddie took a deep breath. He exhaled slowly, and said,

“It’s true.”

\---

They moved to England soon after. If word got out about Freddie’s words, the Bulsara’s would no longer be safe in Zanzibar. Fleeing was their only safeguard against the turmoil that Freddie’s mother told him wasn’t his fault. Only God had control over the matters of soulmates and markings.

That didn’t stop him from feeling so horribly guilty when Kashmira cried for hours on the plane ride to their new home.

\---

John was by far the luckiest member of Queen. The media frenzied over him, a young rockstar who had found his soulmate at the age of twenty-four. He had everything- fortune, fame, and family- and he had decades to revel in it.

Roger and Brian were a different story. They’d both married, yes, and had children too, but their wives weren’t their soulmates. It was a difficult truth that most people accepted- deciding to settle for someone other than your soulmate.

Through his band-mates, Freddie saw just how different Deaky and Ron’s relationship was compared to Roger’s or Brian’s. It was painfully clear they were made for each other. While all couples had fights, John and Ron’s disputes could be solved rather easily. They could return to their normal, happy selves, enjoying their love and the immense satisfaction of knowing there was no one else they’d rather be with.

Meanwhile, Brian still griped about something his wife had said months ago that hadn’t set well with him. Roger started hanging out with new girls, either as a desperate attempt to find his perfect someone or as a distraction from everything that was going wrong with his marriage.

Every once in a while, Freddie became jealous of how far his band-mates’ personal lives had progressed while his remained stuck at square one. They all had married, had children. Sometimes, whenever he felt especially lonely, he wondered what his life would have been like if he’d just sucked it up and stayed with Mary. It was a small comfort knowing he would’ve been miserable, probably, just like Brian and Roger on their bad days.

Hearing them complain about their marriages was enough for Freddie to feel, in a twisted sense, grateful for his situation. He had his share of partners throughout the years, and once it was all said and done, he never had to worry about who got custody of the kids or who got to keep what furniture. Dating was easier than marriage. But when Freddie saw the way John looked at Veronica, he was reminded that easier wasn’t necessarily better.

Better would only come with a certain someone. If only the world was just the two of them- then it’d be easier to narrow the down the literal billions of possibilities.

Whenever Freddie was feeling either particularly lonesome or particularly hopeful, he’d go to random bars just to meet people. He’d introduce himself, they’d reply, and in seconds he would know if the person he was flirting with was his soulmate. Most of the time the results would only worsen the stinging longing in his soul. Other times, a quick screw in the grimy bathroom of a club was enough to make it worth his while.

With any hope, that’s where he might end up with the handsome man sitting alone at the bar.

Freddie slid into the empty seat beside him. The brunette glanced his way but paid him no further attention, taking intermittent swigs from his bottle instead.

The singer grinned and donned a sultry expression. “What’s a handsome thing like you doing all alone at a place like this, darling?” he asked, laying on the charm thick.

The stranger only huffed and rolled his eyes. Freddie scoffed.

“Oh come on, dear, have mercy on me,” he said, putting on a show of acting more hurt by the dismissal than he actually was. “Would you at least be gratuitous enough to allow me the _honor,”_ Freddie exaggerated, “of knowing your name?”

The other man shook his head as an amused smile crept along his cheeks. It was then that he looked at Freddie properly. The stranger’s chocolate brown eyes met his own.

“Jim Hutton,” the man answered.

At first, all Freddie felt was shock, and then-

Electricity.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim and Freddie have to lose before they can gain.   
> Featuring: OC Sammy and Mary Austin.

_1976_

“Freddie Mercury,” said Sammy in awe. “Your soulmate is Freddie Mercury.”

The brunette blinked. “Who?”

The ginger stammered for a moment, “How- how could you not know- not hear of-” he groaned in exasperation. “Have you ever heard of the band Queen?”

“No,” said Jim. His head was still reeling, and euphoria continued to echo through his body.

This was insane. He’d heard his soulmate on the _radio_ of all things.

Sammy gaped. “They sang _You’re My Best Friend?”_

Jim shook his head. “Never heard of it.”

“ _Killer Queen?”_

“No.”

_“Bohemian Rhapsody?”_

“Uh-uh,” Jim said. When Sammy groaned and ran his hands over his face at his answers, he blurted, “Look, I don’t listen to rock music, what did you expect?”

“Queen transcends genre!” his boyfriend exclaimed passionately. “I just- I can’t believe you’ve never heard their music.” He thought for a moment. “No, actually- I believe it. If you heard them before, you would’ve heard Freddie Mercury singing, and then you would’ve known he was your soulmate- just, holy shit, Jim- your soulmate is-”

“Freddie Mercury,” Jim tried the name on his tongue. A pleasant shiver raced down his spine. “So what, he’s their lead singer?”

“He’s the frontman, pianist, guitar, sometimes- God, love, you’re a lucky man,” Sammy said with a chuckle. A dreamy expression overcame him, and he sighed, “He has such strong cheekbones.”

Jim made a face as an instinctual, sour emotion shot through him. Sammy noticed that change.

“Oh, sorry- I just mean he’s, uh, he’s physically attractive,” Sammy held his hands up. “He’s all yours, love, don’t get me wrong- I’m just stating the facts.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jim asked, his brow furrowed.

Sammy sighed and shook his head, “You don’t have to worry about me trying to steal your man, sweetheart.”

Jim scoffed and folded his arms over his chest defensively. “I’m not worried about that," he said.

“I know,” said Sammy. He then smiled mischievously, and added, “But if you were, it’s perfectly justifiable. He’s your soulmate. It’s natural for you to be protective.”

The brunette opened his mouth, ready to say otherwise, but found he had nothing to say to defend himself. Jim looked over to the other man.

Sammy watched him with a smile stretched across his face, but there was something artificial about the expression. The emotion in his eyes didn’t reflect his apparent happiness. Suddenly, Jim realized how Sammy must feel about all of this.

Jim pulled the other man into an embrace and placed a gentle kiss on his boyfriend’s forehead. “I’m not going to leave you, you know,” he said quietly, a sad smile gracing his lips.

Surprise overtook the ginger’s features. “No, Jim- he’s your _soulmate,”_ he said, taking Jim’s hand in his own. “I want you to be happy- and he would make you happy, so I want you to go to him.”

“I don’t . . . .” the brunette shook his head, astonished by his boyfriend’s decision. “I don’t want him.”

“Don’t lie to me, love,” he spoke softly. Sammy’s thumb pet the back of Jim’s hand in comforting circles.

“I’m not,” said Jim, resolve building. “I don’t want to be some- some groupie, for Christ's sake.”

“You wouldn’t be,” Sammy assured him.

“But- he’s in a band, and bands go on tours, so it’s either I go too or I stay at home,” he realized and took a collecting breath. “I don’t know if I could do that.”

Sammy watched his boyfriend’s face fall as he imagined what his life would be like once he united with Freddie. It would be glamorous and over-the-top. While Jim would admit he’d liked to try the celebrity lifestyle for a day, he didn’t want to think about spending his whole life like that. Rock and roll, drugs and alcohol, concerts and clubs weren’t really his scene. They were Freddie’s. Jim hated the idea of forcing his soulmate from the life he’d chosen.

The ginger took a deep breath, collecting his thoughts. “So . . . what are you going to do?” he asked carefully.

Jim stared down at their interlocked hands. “I just- I need things to be normal while I figure this out,” he decided after a moment. “I’m not leaving you.”

The unspoken _yet_ felt like a pin through Sammy’s heart.

\---

In the end, it was Sammy who left Jim. His boss offered him a promotion, but the position was only available at the company’s location in Munich. Sammy took the offer without much hesitation. While he loved Jim dearly, it was difficult being with someone who, in Sammy’s mind, was spoken for.

Jim stood on the curb as Sammy put his suitcases away in the cab. He slammed the trunk closed and turned to his boyfriend, unsure of how to say goodbye.

“I hope everything works out for you,” Jim said at last, completely sincere.

The words sent a pang of regret through Sammy, but he pushed the feeling aside.

“I do to.” He chuckled softly before his tone grew more somber. “I’m sorry, Jim. For leaving like this.”

Jim nodded. He was sorry too. Loving Sammy came so easily to him, but fate had decided Jim was destined for someone else.

Sometimes, he wished he’d never heard a Queen song in his life.

Sammy reached for his hand. Jim offered it immediately, soaking in the feeling of his boyfriend’s warm palm against his. They wouldn’t dare to be any more affectionate than a handshake in public.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can,” the ginger promised. He let go of Jim’s hand.

“Okay,” said Jim as he watched his boyfriend back into the cab.

“And Jim?” Sammy sent the brunette a pleading look. “Please get in touch with Freddie.”

The advice sent a flood of mixed emotions through Jim’s body. He swallowed, a sudden spike of anxiety shooting down his spine. “I’ll try,” he said.

“You promise?” asked Sammy, staring intensely into Jim’s eyes.

Jim nodded. “I promise,” he vowed.

Sammy smiled, a huge weight taken off of his shoulders. He wanted the best for Jim. It did no one any good for him to have these unnecessary reservations about meeting Freddie. After all, Freddie was Jim’s soulmate. Sammy would never be able to replace him.

He nodded to his boyfriend, and said, “Goodbye, Jim.”

"Bye, Sammy," Jim returned, feeling a lump beginning to form in his throat. He wouldn't let Sammy see him cry.

With that, the ginger shut the car door. He waved out the window as the cab drove to the end of the street and turned the corner.

Jim stood on the curb for a minute longer, completely silent until he let out a shaky breath, his upper lip beginning to tremble. He turned on his heels and ran inside before tears began to streak down his cheeks.

\---

  


The sound of the door shutting echoed through his flat. He flung his keys onto the coffee table and flopped onto the couch, sighing loudly. As much as he loved what he did, rowing with the boys at the studio all day was exhausting.

Freddie heard the clinking of dishware in the kitchen and smiled.

“You would not believe the day I’ve had!” he exclaimed, mood steadily improving as his muscles relaxed. “Roger was just being a complete moron- I have no idea what the hell he was thinking.”

He lolled his head to the side and saw Mary pouring hot water into two mugs.

“He thought-” he barked out a laugh, “-he seriously thought that- oh, you would have to had been there. I can’t possibly explain it, the argument- I don’t even remember what it was about, to be honest-”

“Freddie,” Mary interrupted him, her somber tone distracting her fiance from his train of thought.

Dark chocolate eyes met soft blue. A worried expression stiffened Mary’s complexion in a way that made Freddie’s heart fall to the pit of his stomach.

“What wrong?” he asked, sitting up from his slouch against the pillows.

His girlfriend’s lips parted to answer, and after a moment of hesitation, told him, “I want a baby.”

Freddie froze. His breath caught in his throat. The silence that blanketed the room was suffocating him, yet his thoughts were like screams inside his skull. Mary’s gaze seemed to pierce his skin.

God, how long had she been thinking about kids? It all seemed so sudden.

He swallowed. “A baby?” he repeated quietly.

Mary nodded. Freddie now recognized her worried expression as apprehension.

“I would think we should get married before we think about babies, or anything of that sort,” he said, trying to move away from the subject.

His fiance wasn’t having it. “I’m being serious, Freddie,” she said, her pretty pink lips twitching into a small frown.

“I am too,” he pressed, shaking his head. “I think you’d- we’d be happier having children in wedlock.”

Mary picked up the two mugs of tea and made her way to the couch. She placed their drinks on the coffee table before sitting down beside Freddie, staring intensely into his eyes.

“Then can we set a date for the wedding?” she asked slowly. When Freddie hesitated to reply, she added, “Please.”

He rubbed his hand over his face, in complete disbelief they were even having this conversation. Sure, Freddie knew that Mary wanted children, but he’d hoped their cats could have been enough for her, at least for the time being. Apparently her patience was wearing thin.

Freddie pursed his lips and glanced to the side, unable to withstand the look Mary was sending him. “I- children, I just- I don’t know if now is the best time,” he decided on, nodding to himself.

“Why not?” she asked. Freddie cringed inwardly.

“Oh, you know-” he waved his hand- “Queen is almost always on tour, dear, I just- I wouldn’t want to leave you alone with a baby.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” she said honestly, reaching out to place a delicate hand against his chest. “It would have to be that way. I understand.”

“But that’s not fair,” he said at once. “I’m not leaving you to be some single mother while I’m gallivanting across the world, darling.”

Mary’s brow pinched. “It _is_ fair,” she stressed, and then sighed again. “Freddie, Queen is like your baby- and I can’t help you much with that. I want my own baby. A real one.”

Freddie sent his fiance a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. “Are you implying I couldn’t take care of my own child?”

“No, of course you could- you can,” Mary rubbed circles into his shoulder with the pad of her thumb. “It’s just that-” she made a frustrated noise, “I’m ready for a baby.”

She stared deep into his eyes, waiting for his response. Freddie could tell how much she hoped for a yes, _yes, we can have children_ , but found he was unable to answer. All he could do was watch her face fall in silence.

After a minute of no reply, Mary sent him a pleading look. “Please, Freddie,’ she whispered, her eyes beginning to water.

“Hey, hey now,” he brought a hand to her face and wiped at her eyes.

She reached up and held his hand against her face, nuzzling it slowly, lovingly. The gesture that Freddie once adored now sent a chill down his spine. The contact was a terrible reminder that Mary was his fiance, and he was her's. They were engaged to marry. Mary was so good to him, and he'd been nothing of the sort to her.

He silently cursed himself when he took a deep breath, and said, “I have something to confess.”

Mary gazed into his eyes, her brow quirking slightly. A burning flash of guilt shot through Freddie’s body, but he continued.

Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t.

“I’ve been seeing other people,” he blurted the terrible words.

His fiance stilled, her eyes widening in shock at the confession. Freddie waited for the anger, for her to scream at him, hit him, even, but the blows never came. Instead, a blank, stony expression fell over Mary’s features.

“I know,” she admitted in a tiny voice.

“You- what?” Freddie stammered.

“I know you’ve been seeing other people,” she repeated, her casual tone concealing her true feelings toward the adultery. “I forgive you.”

She meant it. Despite the betrayal, despite the long-held lies about staying late at the studio or crashing at Roger or Deaky or Brian’s after a long night of clubbing, Mary forgave him completely.

After all, they weren’t each other’s soulmates. They entered this relationship understanding that they were both settling for less. Not only that, but the dynamic wasn't meant to be. Freddie wanted so many things from Mary: companionship, pleasure, love, the approval of his parents, etc. Mary wanted these things too, but above all she yearned for one thing.

“You- how could you possibly-” Freddie stammered, confused and appalled by the confession. “How long have you suspected?”

“I’ve known since last year,” she said simply. “A man called looking for you.”

Her fiance stared at her in shock. He shook his head in denial. “Who?” he asked at last.

“David Minns,” she answered.

Freddie was quiet for a moment, taking in the news. _“Fuck,”_ he swore under his breath. “Why the hell haven’t you left me yet?”

“Because you’re good to me,” said Mary.

“Good to you? I cheated on you!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

“I don’t care about that,” she insisted.

“You should care! God, Mary,” Freddie gripped her hands tightly. “You deserve so much better than me."

Mary nodded in agreement, surprising her fiance somewhat.

“I’m not your soulmate,” she deadpanned. “I’ll never be enough for you-”

“Don’t say that, please-”

“-and you’ll never be enough for me,” Mary finished. She took a collecting breath, and made her point, “That’s why I’m asking you, please, Freddie. I want a baby.”

Freddie’s eyes widened dramatically. “You want to have a baby with me, after all of this?” he asked, incredulous.

“I’d rather it be you than anybody else,” Mary confirmed.

It didn’t take long for Freddie to come to a decision. “No.”

Mary’s breath hitched. “You wouldn’t have to raise it if you don’t want to,” she offered quickly, assuming Freddie’s reservations were concerning fatherhood. “I’d be perfectly alright if it were just us two.”

“Absolutely not,” Freddie snapped. “If we’re going to have a baby, then I want to be a father- a proper father for it. Did you honestly think I’d ever let you be a single mother?”

Mary’s lack of response was an answer in itself. Freddie let out a noise of disgust and rose from the couch.

“Sit back down, Freddie,” she said.

Her fiance marched over to the phone and began dialing a number. Mary gaped at his apparent insolence. In that moment, all of her repressed anger came bubbling to the surface.

“You know what?” she hissed, leaving the couch and approaching Freddie. “I’ve put myself through hell these past few months worrying about you. You come home late or high or never at all- do you know how many nights I’ve spent making calls just to see if you’re alright?”

Freddie sent her a chilling glare, and spat, “If it bothers you so much, why did you do it?”

Mary gasped. Tears of frustration began pooling in her eyes.

“I do so, so much for you, and all you do is hurt me,” she nearly yelled, barely restraining herself. “I’ve never asked for anything from you until now.”

“Oh, is that how you’re twisting it,” Freddie hummed as he waited for the person on the other end of the line to answer their phone.

“Excuse me?” she hissed.

“Having a baby isn’t repaying a favor,” he said, voice rising steadily. “If you think you can manipulate me into fathering your baby, then you’re wrong.”

“That's not what this is about-"

Freddie interrupted her and spoke into the receiver, “Hello Maggie dear- I know it’s late, but would you let me stay over at your place tonight?” He paused and listened. “Yes, you see, I’ve just had a terrible fallout with Mary-”

“You fucking arsehole-”

“-so I was wondering if I could- yes? Oh, thank you, Bri- I’ll be over soon.” With that, Freddie put the phone back on the receiver and turned to Mary.

“You can keep the apartment, but I’m taking my piano and the cats,” he deadpanned, pushing past her. “I’ll have my babies, and you can have yours.”

With that, Freddie left the flat, slamming the door on his way out.

All Mary could do was gawk.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Alexander, not to be confused with John Deacon, is Jim's current boyfriend in this chapter.

1980

The tickets taped into his birthday card made his heart fall to the pit of his stomach.

“No,” said Jim, shutting the card and sliding it away from him.

“Oh, come on, love,” John pleaded, sending his boyfriend puppy eyes. “It’ll be fun- your first concert!”

“I know what you’re playing at,” the brunette deadpanned.

“Do you now?” John asked, feigning innocence.

“ _John,”_ he pressed.

“I just- I’m sorry, I just really want to go see them in person and you really should meet him and-”

“You can go with someone else, then,” Jim said, crossing his arms over his chest.

John shook his head. “I want to go with you, love,” he said softly, taking Jim’s hand in his. “Please, Jim- come to the concert.”

Jim averted his eyes to the table. God, why did John feel the need to press the issue?

“Look at me, babe,” John urged.

Jim did. His boyfriend’s pretty blue eyes stared deeply into his own, imploring him to accept his birthday present.

After Sammy, Jim was effectively single for a few years, never being able to keep a stable boyfriend for more than a couple months. They usually called it off once they figured out Jim was evading his soulmate on purpose. Only two, Jim’s last boyfriend Arty and current boyfriend John, had stayed after he told them about Freddie.

In the end, Arty left after having nightmares about Freddie Mercury for a week straight. He couldn’t stand the guilt of being in a relationship with Jim, of keeping him from his soulmate. John, on the other hand, understood where Jim was coming from.

Like Jim, John was hesitant to meet his soulmate, especially with first words like the ones on his body: _my parents are going to kill me_ was smeared across his ribs in heavy, shaky handwriting. So when Jim came clean about knowing who his soulmate was, and his reservations about meeting him, John had understood.

John also made it his personal goal to unite the two. Above all, he wanted Jim to be happy. What could make him happier than meeting his soulmate?

Another moment passed between them. Jim let out an exasperated groan.

“Fine,” he bit out, heart fluttering when a million-watt smile overcame John’s face.

“You’ll come? Really?” John asked, his eyes shining with excitement.

“I’ll come,” Jim confirmed, pulling the tickets into his hands once more.

In only a few months, he’d see his soulmate in person for the first time.

Jim couldn’t help but daydream about the concert.

\--- -

1980, a few months later.

It was so, so loud. Strangers screeched into Jim’s ears. Queen wasn’t even halfway through their set when Jim decided he’d had enough.

 _“Get me out of here!”_ Jim screamed over the crowd into John’s ear.

John didn’t hear him right away. “What?” he yelled back, turning to see the state his boyfriend was in.

Tears flowed freely from Jim’s handsome eyes. His skin shone in the limited light of the venue, pale and clammy. He couldn’t catch his breath. The air was so thick with smoke and sweat that is was nearly impossible to breath, yet the fans didn’t care. They cheered and screamed and sang along to Freddie Mercury, gushing over him.

Every girl who screamed ‘I love you, Freddie!’ tore at Jim’s very soul.

“Oh my God!” John exclaimed when he realized Jim was beginning to panic. His head swivelled to find the exit. “Just- hold onto my arm and follow me, alright?”

Jim nodded, trying to keep his eyes on John’s back as they made their way through the crowd.

Freddie’s voice filled every atom of his body, plucking at his heart strings like a harp. Each note caused a sweet, sweet release of endorphins and adrenaline and dopamine that made Jim feel like he was on the wildest high he’d ever been on. Every song was fire, and Jim’s body was fresh kindling.

If he didn’t get out of there soon, he would burst into flames.

Wet sobs erupted from Jim’s throat as John helped him escape the crowd. Hot tears poured down his red cheeks.

All he wanted was to jump onto the stage and pull Freddie into his arms. He wanted to feel his breath against his cheek, his eyes gazing into his own. He wanted to whisper sweet nothings into his ear and make him forget that they were before a crowd of thousands of people. Jim wanted it to feel like it was just the two of them, together at last.

Knowing he would be stopped by security before he could even try filled Jim with despair so crushing, he felt as though the world was pressing down on his shoulders. He was so close, yet so, so infuriatingly far. He couldn’t bear it.

“I’m so sorry, Jim- I’m sorry for making you come,” John said over and over, apologizing all the way to his car.

They drove home, Jim sobbing quietly while John whispered reassurances to him. The brunette didn’t calm down completely until John had helped him out of the car and into their flat. His boyfriend made him a cup of tea and wrapped him up in one of his mother’s old quilts.

“I didn’t think seeing him would upset me so much,” Jim murmured once his breathing had finally evened out.

He stared into his tea, letting the steam wisp and lick at his pink, splotchy face.

John rubbed comforting circles into his back, but said nothing. The guilt of pressuring Jim into going to the concert weighed heavy on his conscience.

After a long moment of silence between the two, Jim licked his lips, and said, “I think I need to get in contact with him.”

John took on a concerned expression. “Are you sure?” he asked carefully, the memory of Jim’s breakdown still fresh on his mind.

“Yeah,” Jim nodded slowly, eyes lost in thought. “I’m just- I’ve wasted _four years_ thinking I’d be better off without him, but-” he swallowed nervously when the realization came to him. “I’m not. I’m really, really not.”

John nodded in agreement. He could only imagine the struggle his boyfriend had been dealing with for so long. Of course, he’d witnessed the effects avoiding Freddie had on his daily life. They’d left restaurants when Queen began playing in the background, and rarely listened to the radio in fear of what songs the DJ might choose.

Jim was painfully aware of the aching emptiness in his life that only Freddie could fill. He was never able to escape the smothering loneliness, even when he was with John. Sometimes, he would wake up in the middle of the night after another nightmare about Freddie- about Freddie abandoning him, being disappointed in him. There were days when he was completely lost in his own mind, stricken by his dilemma.

Why did he feel the need to put himself through this hell in the first place? Fear? His excuses had always been weak, but to Jim they were strong enough to convince him that he wasn’t good enough to be Freddie’s soulmate.

He now saw how unnecessary all that worry had been. Seeing his soulmate in person for the first time had helped him realize what he’d known all along.

“I want him, John,” he admitted finally. Fresh tears of relief rolled down his cheeks. “I want him so badly, I can’t take it.”

“I know love, I know,” John held him close, careful on the tea in his hands.

They spent the rest of the night cuddling on the couch, trying desperately to ease the ache of their combined loneliness.

\--- -

1981

Freddie sent another glance to the bathroom door to make sure it was actually locked before he pulled out the phonebook. He flipped through the yellow pages and found where the familiar name was printed. His finger ran down the paper, down the many men who shared the same title.

_Jim Albert Hutton_

_Jim Arthur Hutton_

_Jim Carter Hutton_

_Jim Darwin Hutton_

Freddie groaned in frustration as the names went on and on. Why did there have to be so many Jim Hutton’s in London? Was he actually considering calling up each one? Chances were that his Jim Hutton didn’t even live in London. Hell, he might not even live in Britain.

He shut the phone book before the pain of knowing his soulmate’s name, but not where he lived, could affect him further.

 _“Freddie?”_ he heard echo through the house.

The singer didn’t reply. Instead, he got up from his seat on the toilet and stared at his reflection in the mirror. If he looked closely, he could see the beginnings of a bald spot forming on the crown of his head.

 _“Freddie, are you ready to go?”_ Paul yelled from downstairs. _“Your chauffeur's here!”_

He was already 35. For all he knew, he could be halfway through his life. 70 seemed so, so old.

_“Freddie?”_

35 years had gone by, and he had no soulmate to speak of. Freddie Mercury may have been one of rock’s greatest stars, but he was still only a man. Even he was not immune from the winds of chance.

Too often had Freddie daydreamed about meeting him. He imagined performing on stage when Jim would suddenly burst past security, tackling him into an embrace. His arms would hold him tightly, making him forget the years they’d spent apart in one simple gesture.

Freddie sighed and left the bathroom. It did him no good to dwell on impossibilities. He had to focus on the present. He had Queen and his cats and Paul- and if he ever wanted anything else, he could buy it with a swipe of his credit card.

What more could he possibly ask for?

He left the bathroom and headed downstairs, finding Paul talking to someone just beyond the front door. Someone who definitely wasn’t their driver.

“I’m going to call the police if you don’t leave _right now,”_ he bit out, scowling through the crack between the door and the threshold. “I swear to God I’m going to file a restraining order.”

“No, please,” Freddie heard the stranger beg. “I just- I just want to talk to him for a moment, it’s important-”

“Get the fuck out of here!” Paul yelled in anger. He tried to slam the door shut, but the stranger’s foot held it open.

The man forced the door open a tad more and managed to squeeze his chest through. He was a tall, heavy-set blonde with a chevron mustache and pale blue eyes. His face was red with frustration, and his gaze darted around the foyer. His eyes widened when he saw Freddie, who stared at the crazed fan in fear.

“Mr. Mercury, I’m so sorry about this, but I need to talk to you,” he grit out, struggling to hold the door open against Paul’s weight. “My boyfriend is your-”

“Shut up!” Paul roared, pulling the door back and slamming it as hard as he could into the stranger’s body.

A loud crack resonated through the foyer. The man let out a scream of agony as Paul broke two of his ribs.

Freddie stared at Paul, shocked and appalled that he would assault the crazy fan. Paul seemed to be surprised with himself too as he watched the blonde stranger groan in pain. He hesitated for a moment longer before regaining his wits and slamming the door into him again. The man screamed bloody murder.

“Stop! What the fuck are you doing?” Freddie ran to Paul and tried to pull him away from the door, but to no avail.

Paul was too strong and too focused to be brought down by Freddie alone. His eyes flashed with fury and his shoulders shook with rage.

 _“Fuck off,”_ he growled lowly at the stranger, priming the door for another swing. “You get the fuck out of here, right fucking now or I swear to God I’ll-”

“I’ll go! I’m sorry, I’m sorry- I’ll go,” the stranger whimpered.

He promptly left the threshold and walked down the steps to the house, clutching his injured rib cage. Paul watched the man climb into his car and drive off down the street before he finally closed the door.

Freddie confronted him immediately. “Why hell did you do that?” he demanded, pushing his furious face into Peter’s. “He was just a crazy fan!”

“I _protected_ you,” his lover hissed.

“You broke his ribs!” Freddie screamed.

“He tried to break into the house!”

The singer only shook his head, completely disgusted with Paul. “You broke his _ribs,”_ he repeated under his breath.

Before Paul could say another word, Freddie turned away and ran back up the stairs. He couldn’t stand to look at Paul after what he’d done. The crack of the man’s bones breaking still echoed in his ears.

  


\--- -

  


1981

Jim rushed to the hospital as soon as he’d gotten the call. He ignored the disapproving look the receptionist gave him and ran to the room number she begrudgingly provided him with.

“You fucking idiot,” Jim bit out when he entered John’s room. “What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

John looked up from his lap to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. The forlorn expression on his face gave Jim a pause.

A hospital gown was draped across his body, and an IV was running down his arm. His hair was unkempt and there was a sweaty sheen to his skin. God, he looked terrible.

Before Jim could expression his concern, John swallowed and said quietly, “I thought if I could just talk to him, he might be willing to meet you.”

“What did you _do?”_ he demanded, coming to John’s bedside.

The blonde refused to meet his eyes. He hesitated, but eventually answered, “I went to his house and asked to see him. Someone else answered the door, and the moment I mentioned you he started screaming at me. I tried to tell Freddie, but the other guy slammed the door on me and threw me out.”

“You- slammed the door _on_ you? You went inside his house?” Jim exclaimed, anger at his boyfriend building. “You can’t do that! He’s a celebrity, John!”

“I just thought if I told him he’d-”

“What, agree to meet me?”

John went silent. “ . . . . well, yeah,” he said finally, now realizing his plan wasn’t quite as foolproof as he’d originally thought.

Jim shook his head in disbelief. With a loud groan, he started to pace around the hospital room.

“I can’t believe you- I can’t believe you!” he yelled and turned on John. “How could you ever think this would be okay?”

“It would’ve been okay if I could’ve convinced him to see you!” John yelled back, frustration growing. Suddenly, his face lit up, an idea coming to life in his head. “Oh! Okay, alright- new plan. Better plan!”

“Oh, God,” Jim ran a hand over his face.

John ignored the comment, and continued, “How about you go over to his house to apologize for me?”

“No, John- I’m not going to harass him,” said Jim, dismissing the suggestion with a sigh.

“It wouldn’t be harassment- Freddie is your soulmate,” John argued immediately. “Once you meet him, it won’t matter _how_ you met.”

“It matters to me,” he pressed, staring down at John.

The blonde quirked his brow and sent him an incredulous look. “Alright, but let me ask you this,” he said. “If Freddie suddenly appeared on your doorstep, would you be mad at him?”

Jim, caught off guard by the question, murmured, “No, because I already know who he is. I’m just a stranger to him.”

“Okay, let me rephrase that- would you be mad if your _soulmate_ came to your door?”

Jim’s silence was enough of an answer. John smirked, knowing he proved his point.

“You still shouldn’t have went to his house,” the brunette repeated, thinking over the plan in his mind.

It was so simple- simple enough to actually work. All he had to do was open his mouth and speak within Freddie’s earshot, and that would be it. They’d finally be together.

“But you’ll do it, won’t you?” John pleaded softly, looking up at his boyfriend with the saddest puppy-dog eyes he could muster.

A moment passed before Jim nodded slowly, agreeing to the plan.

John smiled brightly. The pain of breaking three ribs would be worth it as long as Jim met Freddie. Then they could both move on with their lives.

Jim would regret leaving John behind. They’d been a couple for two years now, enjoying one another’s company despite the nature of their relationship. John and Jim were essentially in limbo, waiting for the moment Jim met Freddie, and they accepted that.

Still, they would be sad to part ways. Though they weren’t each other’s soulmates, Jim and John loved each other deeply.

A selfish part of Jim’s mind wondered how amazing Freddie must be if John was this good to him without being _meant_ for him. And, thanks to John, he’d know soon enough.

Jim couldn’t help but feel giddy as he left the hospital with John later that day.


	4. Chapter 4

1981

Thank God it was nice out. Waiting on Freddie Mercury’s doorstep for two hours would have been unbearable if it were raining. Jim arrived sometime around noon, and once he figured out no one was home, he decided to stay until his soulmate returned. Whenever that would be. 

“Here’s to hoping he’s not out of town,” Jim murmured and took a sip from his water bottle.

One way or another, he was in this for the long haul. He’d stay until Freddie came home, even if it took days. John promised to check in on him every now and then to bring supplies. If the neighbors became suspicious of him, Jim planned to hide out in the bushes- he had a tarp and everything.

Jim knew what he must have looked like, but he was past the point of caring. Once he met Freddie, the weird behavior would be understandable. He was Freddie’s soulmate, not a stalker. He had to do what he had to do. As long as Jim kept telling himself that, he would be okay.

He also brought along a few apology gifts. The brilliant yellow orchid had been a housewarming gift from his mother when he first moved to London. It seemed like years and years ago when he thought about it. Jim almost regretted giving it away, but it wasn’t as though he’d never see it again. 

With any hope, he and Freddie would be living together soon. Then the flower would be theirs to care for instead of just his. 

Another hour of passed of Jim sitting around and reading the book he’d brought along before a car rolled to a stop in front of the house. Jim listened with bated breath as the stalling engine finally turned off. The pop of the car door opening sent his hopeful heart racing.

Out of the vehicle came a man with a familiarly styled mustache. Unfortunately, that was where the similarities stopped. He had light brown hair and a pair of golden-lensed aviators, along with a black leather jacket and distressed denim jeans. 

Jim set his book down on the step and stood, alerting the other man to his presence. His posture stiffened immediately, and his features turned sour.

“Who’re you?” he asked and slammed the car door closed. “What are you doing here?”

The brunette smoothed out his shirt in an attempt to look more presentable. He needed the man to trust him for the plan to work.

“I’m- uh, I'm sorry to bother you,” he began carefully. “My name’s Jim Hutton. I’m here to apologize on the behalf of my friend- he was here the other day- for barging in on Mr. Mercury.”

The stranger stared at him for a long moment, his lips curling into a distinct look of distaste. Jim wished he could see his eyes behind his glasses. His expression was difficult to read. 

“Jim Hutton?” the man asked, his voice wavering oddly. “You’re- you’re that crazy fan’s partner. He mentioned you.”

Jim’s brow furrowed. John talked to this guy? Then that meant the stranger must have been there when John visited a few days ago. And, according to Jim, he’d only seen Freddie and the mystery man who assaulted him. 

“He mentioned you, too,” said Jim once he connected the dots. “Leather jockey with the mustache?”

The other man scowled. “Paul Prenter, actually,” he said. “I’m Freddie’s manager.”

Jim opened his mouth, ready to ask this man- Prenter- what right he had to put his boyfriend in the hospital, but thought better of it. His eyes hardened, and he took a deep breath. 

“I’m terribly sorry about what my friend did to you and Mr. Mercury,” he began. “I won’t make any excuses for him- what he did was completely out of line. And I know you probably don’t want me here either, apologizing or not- but I just- I felt so bad I had to do something. I want to make it up to him- to you.” 

He stooped to pick up the orchid. Prenter watched as Jim approached and presented him with the gorgeous flower, a hostile grimace fixed on his face. 

“I’ve been raising this one for the past couple of years,” Jim explained. “It just bloomed two weeks ago- I’d reckon it has two more months until it begins to drop petals.”

Jim tried to pass the vase to Prenter, but the other man made no move to accept the gift. After a few awkward moments, Jim brought the flower back to his chest.

“Of course, you don’t have to take it, if you don’t want to-”

“We don’t,” Prenter deadpanned.

Despite his glasses, Jim could feel the cutting glare the other man was sending him. He fidgeted nervously. 

“Then- I also have some biscuits I picked up from-”

“Freddie doesn’t accept food from fans,” Prenter interrupted. “Too risky.”

Jim blinked. “Ah, right, of course,” he said and paused. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you- for him?”

Prenter took a step closer to Jim, his brow furrowed and face stony. “Yes, there is,” he said lowly. “You can gather up your things-” he gestured to the supplies Jim had strewn across the steps- “And get the fuck away from here, and never come back.”

Jim’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach. His blood ran cold as his mind began to race. What now? All he had to do was speak within Freddie’s earshot- that was his plan. Was that still possible? 

He glanced to the car. The windows were all tinted- he couldn’t tell if there was anyone in the backseat. He couldn’t know if Freddie was there or not, hiding in fear of another crazy fan. 

Guilt flooded through Jim at the thought of scaring his soulmate. If only he could talk to him, then he would understand. Jim hoped his soulmate could forgive him for the trouble he’d caused. He hoped Freddie wouldn’t think any less of him for it.

Jim swallowed nervously. “I will. I’m sorry for bothering you,” he said. “But can you tell him that I came? That I’m sorry about all of this?”

“I will as long as you fuck off in the next minute,” Prenter sneered.

He didn’t think twice. Immediately, Jim flew back to the top of the steps and set down the orchid to shove his book and his water bottle into his backpack. He zipped the pockets shut and slung the bag across his shoulder. Without so much as giving Prenter another glance, he bolted down the street and away from his soulmate’s home. 

Even as his feet continued to pound against the pavement, Jim felt he’d made a mistake. He’d given up too early. But what else could he have done? Refused to leave Freddie’s steps, fight Paul Prenter? Jim was desperate, but he couldn’t risk being arrested. He didn’t want his first meeting with Freddie to be through the bars of a jail cell.

But then again, it would have been better than never meeting him at all. 

Jim’s breath came in ragged gasps by the time he reached a telephone booth. He clambered inside and slammed the door shut. With shaky fingers he inserted a coin and dialed his phone number.

His landlady answered the call as she always did, voice old and raspy from a lifetime of smoking. Jim welcomed the familiarity. 

“Put-  _ gasp-  _ put John on the line, please,” he managed after taking a few seconds to catch his breath.

After a minute of silence on the other end of the line, relief washed over Jim’s body when he heard,  _ “Hello? Jim? What’s wrong?” _

“I need you to pick me up,” he said sullenly. He figured John would be disappointed in him for giving up- even more than Jim was in himself, probably. 

_ “Okay. Where are you?” _ asked John.

Jim gave him the name of the street corner he was on. “I just- I ran into that same guy you did- and he-”

_ “It’s okay, Jim. I’m coming. Don’t worry about that wanker, alright?” _

“Alright. Alright, okay,” Jim took a deep breath. 

_ “I’m hanging up now, love,”  _ said John.  _ “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” _

“Okay,” he said. A thought came to him, and he quickly added, “I love you, John.”

_ “I love you too, babe,”  _ the reply came in an instant.  _ “I’ll see you soon- goodbye.” _

“Bye,” Jim whispered. He stayed on the line long enough to hear John hang up. He put the phone back on the receiver. 

Jim left the phone booth and walked over to the curb. He watched and listened to cars and pedestrians pass him by, all rushing to go wherever it was they knew they needed to be. None of them spared him a glance. Despite being surrounded by people, Jim was alone. While it would have bothered him when he was younger, it didn’t now. No company was better than bad company.

He let out a sigh and sat on the corner as he waited for John. The concrete was filthy, but Jim didn’t mind. It was only dirt.

Against his better judgement, his mind began to wander to the confrontation with Paul Prenter. The man was clearly a territorial arsehole. Jim couldn’t believe he was Freddie’s manager of all things. Though, he was rather effective at getting his way, wasn’t he? Prenter sent him running for the hills. Jim supposed that’s part of what made a good businessman, but that didn’t change the fact that he was out of line when he attacked John. 

Poor John. His partner was only released from the hospital two days ago. It probably wasn’t the best idea for him to be out and driving around, but Jim didn’t want to take a cab. All he wanted to talk to John. They needed a new plan if he was going to get in touch with Freddie, especially with Prenter acting as gatekeeper. 

Forty minutes passed as Jim sat and thought over his dilemma before John parked his car in front of him. He leaned over and pushed the passenger side door open.

“Sorry I’m late- ran into some traffic. How’d it go?” he asked, concerned.

Jim rose and slid into the car, slamming the door behind him. 

“Awful,” he groaned. “That same wanker who slammed the door on you showed up. I didn’t even see Freddie.”

John frowned. “What did he do?” he asked as he pulled away from the curb.

“He told me to fuck off,” said Jim, crossing his arms over his chest.

John sent him a look. “So you fucked off, just like that?”

Jim let out an exasperated sigh. “There was nothing I could do,” he said sullenly. “I can’t get arrested, John, I can’t. I’d lose everything.”

His boyfriend’s brow furrowed as he thought.

“You’d lose everything, yeah,” he admitted at last, sending Jim a meaningful glance. “But you’d have Freddie.”

Jim stared at him, astonished that John was fine with him getting arrested for the sake of his soulmate. “You can’t know that,” he retorted, but as he thought he realized that he’d probably interact with Freddie during some point of the trial. “That’s not how I want to meet him,” he amended. 

John nodded in understanding, his eyes focused on the road. His brunette boyfriend stared at him, waiting for a reply, some word of advice. Frustratingly, he said nothing.

“He told me he’d tell Freddie I was there if I left,” said Jim after a moment, discouragement seeping into his voice. “Now that I think about it, he probably won’t tell him anyways. Or he’ll tell him to steer clear of me.”

The blonde shrugged. “You don’t know that.”

Jim shook his head and stared out the window forlornly. It didn’t matter what they knew or didn’t know, or what Jim suspected would happen. Prenter was out of their control. 

“I shouldn’t have gone,” he said under his breath. “This was all a mistake. I ruined my chances of ever going back to his house, and I bought those biscuits for nothing and I-” he gasped, startling John- “I left the orchid!”

“Do you want to go back for it?” his boyfriend asked. “Maybe have another chance at seeing Freddie?”

He ran his hands over his face. “I just- I don’t-” he groaned. “I don’t know.”

John spared him a glance, seeing the frustration etched into his love’s features. Jim looked exhausted, and he had every reason to be. To say it had been a stressful day would be an understatement. 

He placed a comforting hand on Jim’s knee. “How about we go home and have some lunch? I’ll make spuds and sausages, we’ll have a couple of beers. How’s that?” he offered.

Jim nodded slowly. A lazy night in with his boyfriend was just what he needed to recharge.

“That sounds good,” he agreed.

John smiled warmly. “Alright, babe.”

He squeezed Jim’s knee, and Jim took his hand. It was warm and familiar. The contact was exactly what Jim wanted. 

Despite John’s reassurances, Jim couldn’t help but feel terrible about himself. So many years had gone by, wasted because of his damn reservations. How many more would pass because of his incompetence? He felt like he should be doing everything possible to meet Freddie, but here he was, turning tail just because he was tired, scared, and humiliated.

But Jim didn’t want to wait on Freddie’s doorstep again. All he wanted was to meet his soulmate. Why did it have to be so complicated?

It is what it is, he supposed. They would just have to try again another time. Jim was done for today. There was nothing wrong with allowing himself time to regroup, he reminded himself. Yet, he couldn’t help the doubts that whispered near the edge of his mind. 

Jim took a deep breath. Everything would work out alright. It had to. 

  
\--- -  
  
  


1982

It was another day of scoping the town for Freddie. Of course, Jim had proposed the evening as a date, but John knew his boyfriend. There was a reason they were visiting so many new nightclubs around London instead of sticking to their usual hangout. 

John didn’t mind the change too much. In fact, he rather enjoyed expanding his horizons by exploring the city’s underground gay scene. They met so many interesting characters. However, John could tell that Jim was uncomfortable with the more extreme elements ran into. Swinging and cocaine had never been his boyfriend’s cup of tea.

His precious Jim was as vanilla as a scoop of ice cream. John couldn’t help but hope that one day he’d be able to experiment more. For as much as Jim valued his freedom, he sure exercised it rather mundanely. Not that John didn’t love Jim’s woodworking or gardening- on the contrary, he adored how Jim could use his hands.

But sometimes John wished Jim would be more open to living on the wild side. Lord knows he would have to be, once he finally eloped with Freddie. 

John tried not to feel bad for hoping Jim would meet his soulmate soon. As much as he loved Jim, the man reminded John that he was too much of a pushover for his own good. He spoiled Jim at his own expense. He wanted more from their relationship, but never dared to ask. 

For the most part, John was satisfied with his time with Jim. Making the handsome brunette smile was usually enough for John to go to bed content. 

With a smile to his love, John led Jim through the busy crowd over to the bar.

“Two vodka on the rocks, please,” John ordered for them, nodding politely to the bartender.

Strangely, the bartender didn’t move to make their drinks. He stared at John with a peculiar expression that looked rather like a fish. The man’s jaw hung open in shock, and his wide eyes began to tear. His lip quivered oddly, and then-

_ “My parents are going to kill me,”  _ he whispered under his breath.

The reaction was immediate. John became as still as stone, his body rigid as an influx of chemicals washed through his system. Tears burst from his baby blue eyes. 

“Oh my God,” he said, sobs bubbling up from deep in his chest. “Oh my God!”

In a flurry of motion, John bent over the bar and pulled the bartender into his arms. They clung to each other as though their lives depended on it, their cries echoing through the club. No one noticed the touching moment past the pounding music and strobing lights. 

No one except Jim. The brunette watched his boyfriend cry in the arms of the stranger, overcome with the relief and euphoria he once felt all those years ago in the passenger’s seat of Sammy’s car. 

Jim felt strange as John and the bartender began to kiss passionately, completely enraptured by each other. To his surprise, he didn’t feel betrayed or heartbroken or anything of the sort. In fact, he felt relief hesitantly trickling through his body. He didn’t like the relief, it felt almost like betrayal to be relieved about this, but he felt it anyway.

Against all odds, the smile that spread across Jim’s face was genuine.

“Congratulations!” he screamed over the music and clapped John on the back.

It was then that John seemed to remember himself. He blinked hard and glanced back to Jim, confusion crossing his face before he fully realized the context of the situation.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. He turned to his soulmate. “This is- this is Jim,” he nodded to his boyfriend.

The bartender spared Jim only a moment’s notice before returning to staring deeply into John’s eyes. 

“Who are you?” he asked with a distinct east-end accent.

John smiled widely. “I’m John. John Alexander,” he said, and gave the other man a flurry of kisses across his cheek, earning him a burst of adorable giggles. “Who might you be, love?” he asked.

“Thomas Green,” he answered.

“Thomas!” John yelled before planting a kiss on the bartender’s lips. “Don’t you worry about your parents. I’m here for you.”

His soulmate blushed and tears streamed down his cheeks. 

“Do you still want that drink?” he asked with a laugh that sounded more like a sob.

John touched their foreheads together. “Yes, please, love- and make it three!”

They spent the rest of the night at the bar, John and Thomas getting to know each other while Jim sat to the side, sipping his drink and feeling very much like a third-wheel. Thomas Green was twenty-eight years old, born and raised in London. He’d always worked in bars. After all, his words, John’s first words to him, were asking for a drink. 

“It just made sense to stay put,” he said. “I figured it would make it easier for you to find me- if you ever found me. Easier for a bee to find a flower than another bee.” 

By three in the morning, most of the party had cleared away and Jim decided it was time for him to go as well.

“Are you going home with Thomas?” Jim asked as he left his stool, a little wobbly on his feet.

“Huh?” said John, turning to his boyfriend. “Oh! Oh, well I- that is, do you-” he turned to Thomas, trying to ask for permission.

The bartender’s eyes lit up. “Of course you can come over,” he said at once, his eyes flicking between John and Jim. “We can figure everything else out tomorrow. Living arrangements, and all. Do you two-?”

“Yeah, we share a flat,” said John, a tinge of pride in his voice. 

Nevermind the fact that John was now united with his soulmate, he was still fiercely proud of his and Jim’s relationship. To his surprise, John didn’t feel any less for Jim, his bond didn’t erase his affection for the other man. The only change was the overpowering, pure love he felt for Thomas. It was all very strange and new to him. 

Thomas sent John an odd look and pursed his lips.

“So you two-” he gestured between Jim and John. “You two were a long-term type thing?”

John looked to Jim, searching his boyfriend’s expression for his opinion on the matter. He didn’t want to make any quick assumptions. He wanted Jim to have his say about all this. They’d prepared for the split when Jim met Freddie, but Thomas was completely unprecedented.

How should they be now? What had they any right to be? John hoped Thomas was the understanding sort, for everyone’s sake. He admitted that didn’t know if he was ready to leave John.

The same was true for his boyfriend. The relief he’d felt earlier in the night was fading, being replaced by worries about their future. As much as he wanted John to be happy, wanted John to be happy with Thomas, there was a sort of budding anxiety Jim couldn’t place. Letting go was always difficult. He knew that much from experience.

Jim thought over the history of their relationship. They met through mutual friends and dated for a week or so before becoming intimate- rather, they dated for a week before discovering each other’s special words.

“Somebody to love,” John read aloud, and then chuckled. “Like that Queen song.”

Jim nodded. “Exactly.”

It took a few more months for him to come clean about Freddie. By that point, Jim had the feeling their relationship was starting to become more serious. 

He had a distinct memory of him and John, cuddling late into the morning, sunlight streaming through his boyfriend’s handsome blond hair. It was a good memory, one of his best. It was in that moment he decided that John should know about Freddie, especially since they planned to move in together. 

John took the news better than Jim expected he would. He still wanted them to be together. Jim had held his cheeks and placed butterfly kisses across his face. 

The schemes began soon after. Operation “Get Jim His Man” was underway. John took them to the Queen concert, they went to Freddie’s house, and then all the bar-hopping on the off chance that they would find the superstar.

Who knew their attempts to find Jim’s soulmate would lead them to John’s? The irony certainly wasn’t lost on either of them. 

“We were together for a couple of years, yeah,” Jim said. 

John quirked a brow. “Were?” he asked.

Jim sent him a look. “Yes,  _ were,”  _ he reiterated. “You’re spoken for now, John. I’m not going to intrude on that.”

“Oh,” said John, forcing a neutral expression. “I guess you’re right.”

He looked to Thomas then, sending him the same beseeching eyes he had just given Jim. The bartender stared back, engaging in some silent conversation that soulmates could hold with looks alone.

The other man glanced up to Jim, then back to John. A faint blush graced his cheeks. 

“We’ll talk about it later,” he promised under his breath, relishing in the beaming smile his soulmate gave him. 

Jim could only wonder what it was they were referring to. 

“So you’re going home with Thomas?” Jim asked again.

Both John and Thomas nodded. “Yeah, I will,” John answered confidently.

“Alright, then. I’m heading off,” said Jim, stepping off towards the exit. “I’ll see you around.”

“You will!” John called, sending Jim one last smile. Thomas waved him goodbye.

At that, Jim left the club, a whirlpool of emotions swirling in his head. He knew he should be upset at losing John- he was always so good to him- but he wasn’t. Not yet. Maybe it was the shock of it all, but Jim felt neutral about the end of his best relationship yet. After all, Thomas was literally perfect for John, better than Jim could ever be for him. John would be happy, and for that Jim was glad. 

The pounding of running feet hitting the pavement came up from behind him. Before Jim could even turn around, he was tackled into a tight hug. An involuntary sob burst from his lips.

_ “Thank you,”  _ John whispered into his shoulder and squeezed him tighter.

Jim hugged him back, afraid that if he let go John would evaporate in his arms. “That sounds like a goodbye,” he said with an awkward, heartbroken laugh.

“It’s not,” John promised, loosening his hold on Jim enough to meet his eyes. “I wanted to thank you. For bringing us here tonight. For everything. I love you, babe.”

A frown formed on Jim’s lips, and he glanced away. “You can’t say that anymore, John,” he scolded halfheartedly.

“Who’s to say what I can and cannot do?” John quipped.

“Thomas,” said Jim.

Mirth settled in the other man’s eyes. “Thomas doesn’t mind. He likes you.”

Jim quirked a brow. “What’s that supposed to-”

He was quickly cut off by an unexpected kiss. John pulled him in closer, holding their bodies as close as they could. In shock and in exaltation, Jim let the exchange continue for a moment before pushing away and gasping for breath.

“What the hell was that?” Jim yelled, his heart racing, his eyes darting up and down the street. “We’re in public!”

John grinned madly. “I know!” he laughed out loud. He spun around with his arms wide open. “I’m on top of the world tonight, Jim!”

The over-excited blonde then bounded off back to the bar, waving and smiling back to Jim. He looked so free.

“I’ll see you later!” John yelled his goodbye before turning the corner and disappearing from sight.

For a minute, Jim stared numbly down the street. Conflicting emotions welled up in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.

“See you later,” he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all- it's been a while but here's chapter three. If I ever have the time, I may come back to this chapter to edit it. It's not quite how I want it yet but it's good for now. Now I can start writing chapter five, the final chapter. We'll see how that goes haha. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you all for your continued support and love.


	5. 1983

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! My first completed fanfiction. Thanks to all of your support, I was able to muster the determination to finish this up. I know that two month hiatus was probably rattling, but the wait is over! I hope you all enjoy! Special thanks to PinkiePie for their amazing comments!

It was early in the morning when the front door was unlocked and slammed shut. Footsteps echoed through the dark foyer, illuminated only by the beginnings of a sunrise filtering through the windows. Freddie shoved his keys into his trousers and stumbled into the kitchen. 

He grabbed a glass from the cabinet and ran it under the facet, chugging the water down quickly. The empty glass left Freddie’s lips. He gasped for breath. His shaking hands grasped the marble countertop for support. 

Someone flicked a switch to his left. Freddie shut his eyes and hissed at the harsh light that flooded the kitchen.

“Where were you?” asked a thoroughly annoyed Paul. His arms were crossed against his chest defensively. He tapped his foot against the linoleum, each tap like a hammer on an anvil in Freddie’s head. 

Freddie glowered at his manager. “Out,” he answered shortly. He was in no mood to have a spat.

“Out where?” Paul pressed.

“You know damn well where, dear,” he set his glass down on the counter with a loud clink. The sharp noise only angered his headache.

The other man furrowed his brow. “Clubbing alone,” he said, frustration growing.

Freddie shook his head. “I’m never alone,” he argued, his narrowed eyes meeting Paul’s own. “I can have friends other than you, you know.”

“Friends? Is that what you call them?” Paul bristled. “People don’t usually fuck their friends, Freddie.”

“Well, I’m not like other people, am I?” Freddie scowled, pushing past Paul on his way back to the foyer. 

Paul grabbed his lover’s wrist before he could escape. Freddie tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. 

“Let go of me,” Freddie whimpered, tugging at his arm. 

The plea caught him off-guard. Paul stared at his hand around Freddie’s wrist for a moment, having trouble recognizing the aggressive action as his own, before letting him go. Freddie stumbled away and rubbed the already-forming bruise around his hand.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Paul stammered, guilt pooling into his stomach. “I didn’t mean- are you alright?”

“Fine, no thanks to you,” Freddie bit out. He turned towards the stairs. “I’m going to bed.”

“Oh.” Paul watched his lover walk away. “Do you want me to join you?”

Freddie stopped. His face fell slowly.

“ . . . just give me a few minutes,” he said at last. 

Freddie couldn’t see the smirk that spread across Paul’s lips as he climbed the stairs. 

\--- -

While being in the studio helped the band escape the summer heat, it was more difficult to escape the heat of their arguments. Freddie could hear Roger’s yelling from down the hall. Another day, another damn fight.

“It’s a good PR opportunity, that’s all I’m saying,” John waved the letter in his hand for emphasis. 

“What’s going on?” Freddie asked as he waltzed into the studio. 

Roger, Brian, and John turned away from the pile of fan mail they’d been working through while waiting on their frontman. A glance to the glass confirmed that Paul was settling in behind the mixing booth. 

“We were looking through letters,” Brian held up a stack of envelopes. “It’s all the usual stuff, but-”

“Some sod in London invited us to his wedding,” Roger interrupted, marching over to Freddie. “And John thinks it’d be a wonderful idea to go.”

“It’d be fun,” said John simply. 

Brain sent the bassist a look. “It’s not about fun-” he groaned in exasperation- “If we went, we’d overshadow the whole wedding. It’s their special day.”

“And what’s more special than getting married  _ and  _ meeting their favorite band?” he asked. 

Freddie frowned. “Let me see that,” he made for the letter in John’s hand. The younger man handed it over immediately. 

“Just because you feel some sort of sympathy towards them-” Roger mumbled under his breath.

As the rest of the band continued to bicker, Freddie unfurled the letter from its envelope and began to read over it. 

“This isn’t about that,” John scoffed. “Come on, no one’s ever invited us to a wedding before!”

“I invited all of you to my wedding,” Brian pointed out.

“I mean a fan’s never invited us to their’s. It clearly means a lot to them, and for god’s sake, they’re-”

“Soulmates?” Freddie read aloud from the invitation. He sent a suspicious look to John. “ . . . we can’t actually know if they’re telling the truth.”

“That’s what I said!” Roger exclaimed, pointing at Freddie.

“Yes! Yes, we can- we can know if we go to the wedding,” argued John. 

“We’re not going to some strangers’ wedding,” said Brian.

“C’mon guys-” John turned to their frontman- “Freddie? What do you think?”

Freddie shook his head. “I’m with Rog and Bri on this one,” he said, handing the invitation back to John. 

“Thank you!” Roger plopped back down on the couch. “There you have it, John. We’re not going.”

John looked between his bandmates, searching for any indication that one of them may change their minds. Unfortunately, he found no sympathy. He sighed and stuffed the wedding invitation into his pocket. 

“Fine,” he murmured, accepting his defeat. 

“Good riddance,” said Brian under his breath. “Now that  _ that’s  _ all figured out,” he clapped his hands together, “How about we start recording?”

\--- -

Jim woke to the blaring of his alarm clock. Early morning sunlight filtered through his window, harsh against his sleepy eyes. The air was hot and heavy, humidity making his skin feel slimy. His air conditioning must have been out again.

He groaned and reluctantly rolled out of bed. A shower and breakfast helped him perk up a little, but the heat was still oppressive. Jim glanced at the empty chair across from him at the table. On it hung his old suit, fresh from dry-cleaning. 

A sigh escaped Jim’s lips. He double-checked the calendar stuck to the fridge. A red circle surrounded the date, highlighting his own hurried scrawl.

‘Wedding!’ it read. 

Jim was honored to be John’s best man. When he’d told his ex-boyfriend so, John replied, “Well, who else would I have picked? You’re my best friend.” Jim was grateful that he and John hadn’t grown estranged. In fact, he gained a new friend in his soulmate Thomas, as hyper as he could be. 

Thomas was a natural firecracker, passionate and experimentative and borderline wild. Jim wasn’t anything like John’s soulmate. The bartender’s huge personality made him wonder how much John had settled for when they were dating. 

But that was over now. Jim supposed he was relieved. This way, whenever he met Freddie, he wouldn’t be leaving John alone. He had Thomas, and Jim would have Freddie. Everyone would be happy. 

Once Jim met Freddie, that was. As the months passed Jim found that tracking down a celebrity was harder than he originally thought. He followed leads he’d read in tabloids and newspapers, but they turned out to be only rumors. He would wait around hotels or restaurants or clubs he knew Freddie frequented, but he never showed up. Jim tried everything except revisiting Freddie’s home. Paul’s threat still sent a shiver down his spine. 

Jim took his dirty dishes to the sink and grabbed the suit off of the chair. As he fingered the sleeve a wave of nostalgia washing over him. The last time he wore this suit was on a date with John. Now, he’d be wearing it to John’s wedding. At least Jim could appreciate the irony in the situation. 

John needed him at the church by noon. The wedding itself was at two, and the reception began at three. Knowing Thomas’s family and friends, the party wouldn’t be over til the next day. 

This was a night Jim wouldn’t miss for the world. Freddie could wait one more day. 

\--- -

Jim saw John in his suit just last week. He helped him pick it out. So why did seeing him wearing it now make him feel so strongly? 

“Wow,” was all he could say when John emerged from his dressing room. 

“You like it?” John chuckled as he inspected himself in the mirror, adjusting his tie.

Jim nodded. “Yes,” he whispered. 

The thought crossed his mind before he could stop it. What would Freddie look like, dressed in a handsome suit for their own wedding? He hoped he would know the answer one day.

\--- -

Jim didn’t like getting drunk. Not usually, or at least not like this. He hadn’t been without a beer in his hand since John’s wedding reception three days ago. He felt nasty and numb, but at least he didn’t feel the piercing loneliness he felt watching John and Thomas walk down the aisle. 

Even before the recent binge-drinking, club-hopping was part of his routine. Yesterday was Copacabana. Tonight was Heaven. Tomorrow would be- well, he didn’t know yet. As long as there was cheap booze, men, and a rumor that Freddie had been there once, Jim would be there until the early morning. The only change was that he was guaranteed to be wasted. 

This was a lifestyle Jim once appreciated, when he had someone to share it with. The thought sent him reaching for his glass again. 

At that moment, the empty barstool next to his became occupied. Jim didn’t bother to spare the newcomer a glance. He wasn’t in the mood for non-committal flirting. 

“What’s a handsome thing like you doing all alone at a place like this, darling?” the stranger asked in a sultry tone.

The question sent a shiver down Jim’s spine. The voice was strikingly familiar. Jim cocked his head to his right. 

His heart skipped a beat. The world around him came to a standstill. 

Jim knew any other person would be ecstatic, celebrating, crying even, but he was too drunk to be shocked. Instead, his first reaction is to roll his eyes.  _ Of course _ , after trying to get in contact with the man for years, it’s Freddie who finds him first. 

A mock look of disappointment crossed the rockstar’s features.  “Oh come on dear, have mercy on me,” he said, putting on a show of acting more hurt by the dismissal than he actually was. “Would you at least allow me the honor,” Freddie exaggerated, “of knowing your name?”

Jim always avoided looking at photographs of Freddie. They were terrible reminders of what he was lacking. Only now did he realize just how beautiful his soulmate’s eyes were, how handsome his face was, how enticing his pouty lips were. 

He took a deep breath, swallowed, and said, “Jim Hutton.”

The reaction was immediate. The sexy grin washed away from Freddie’s face. His jaw dropped, and his mouth formed a soft ‘o’. The singer inhaled sharply as his body was flooded with sensation, overwhelmed by the same chemical avalanche Jim experienced all those years ago.

7 years. Jim waited 7 years for this moment.

“Oh my God,” Freddie said. His dark eyes were blown wide, and his pupils dilated like dinner plates. 

That’s when the tears came to Jim. He threw his arms around Freddie, finally being able to hold him after nine years of waiting. His soulmate’s skin was warm and solid under his own. Freddie stood frozen still for a brief moment before fiercely returning his embrace. Jim could feel Freddie shaking in his arms, shoulders racking with barely-contained sobs of joy. They grasped at the fabric of each other’s clothing and refused to let go. 

_ “Jim,”  _ Freddie gasped into his ear. “Jim, Jim- my darling, you’re here, you’re  _ real.” _

“Real?” he chuckled, leaning back to look Freddie in the eye. Jim paused to wipe a tear from his soulmate’s cheek. “Of course I’m real.”

The other man held him tighter. “How could I have known?” he sobbed, breaking Jim’s overjoyed heart. “I tried to look up your address, I asked around- hell, I called every Jim Hutton in the fucking phonebook, for God’s sake!” 

Freddie let out a laugh at how ridiculous he had been. All that worrying for nothing. He had his Jim in his arms.

Jim marveled at his soulmate’s efforts. Freddie searched for him too. Freddie’s words were his  _ own name.  _ He let out a small laugh of his own.

“I’m sorry, love,” he chuckled, caught by the irony of the situation. “But my phone number is under Seamus Hutton, not Jim.”

“What?” Freddie said, mystified.

“Jim is just short for Seamus.”

Freddie blinked. A moment passed, and then he burst out in laughter once more.

“Oh, I’m a real fool, aren’t I?” he laughed, wiping a stray tear away from his face

Jim shook his head and planted a long-awaited kiss on his soulmate’s lips. Freddie melted into the touch, eagerly returning the kiss. Electricity shot through their bodies. This was their moment. The club faded away until all they knew was each other. Freddie and Jim, destined to be, together at last. A tear rolled down Freddie’s cheek. 

_ Finally. _

“Freddie?”

Jim pulled away from Freddie’s lips to glance over his soulmate’s shoulder. Standing behind them was a familiar brunette in a black leather jacket. A sour expression settled on Jim’s face. Freddie turned to see who Jim was looking at. 

“Paul!” he loosened his grip on Jim to face his manager. “Paul, you’ll never believe it! I’ve found him!”

Paul’s eyes remained fixed on Jim. The two shared a tense look. 

“Who, Freddie?” he asked in a low voice, feigning ignorance. 

“It’s Jim! My Jim Hutton,” he smiled up at his soulmate and pressed another kiss onto his lips. 

Jim kissed him back roughly, keeping eye contact with Paul all the while. A small moan burst from Freddie’s lips. Paul flinched at the noise.

Freddie pulled away for a moment, blushing furiously. “Jim, this is Paul, my manager,” he introduced the two men.

Jim nodded. “We’ve met,” he said, glaring at Paul.

The other man swallowed nervously when Freddie’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“What?” the singer asked, searching Jim’s eyes.

“I went to your home a few months ago,” he explained. “I thought I’d try to meet you, but you weren’t there. Your man here sent me away.”

Freddie’s head whipped back to Paul, staring in shock at his manager. 

“You met him before?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

“I didn’t know he was  _ your _ Jim Hutton,” Paul tried to defend himself. 

“But you knew he was called Jim Hutton? You knew that, and you kicked him out?” Freddie asked, his volume rising.

Paul shook his head in denial. “I thought he was some crazy fan like before! I wanted to protect you- how was I supposed to know he was the real deal?”

“Whether or not he was my Jim wasn’t your decision to make,” Freddie glowered, pulling Jim closer to him. “Why didn’t you wait until I came home?”

“C’mon, Fred, that’s not fair-” Paul took a step towards the couple.

In a flurry of movement, Jim tore away from Freddie and sent Paul to the floor with one solid punch. He hit the floor with a loud thud. Paul’s hands shot up to cradle his nose and he groaned in pain. Angry red blood began to drip onto the floorboards.

“What the fuck!” Paul screamed, glaring up at Jim. 

“That’s for John,” he growled. Adrenaline and satisfaction flooded his body. He finally got back at that son of a bitch. 

Jim turned back to Freddie, who was staring at Jim with a startled expression.

His heart fell to the pit of his stomach. “I’m sorry,” he said immediately. “I swear I usually don’t go around beating people up. I just- he assaulted my ex- I-” Jim sighed in defeat. “It’s a long story.”

For a moment, Freddie’s eyes flickered from Jim to Paul, who was still groaning on the floor of the club. The people around them noticed the commotion and were pointing and staring, whispering among themselves. The tabloids would be printing what happened here by tomorrow. Staying any longer would only add fuel to the media fire. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Freddie decided, suddenly feeling crowded and vulnerable.

“Yeah, alright,” Jim nodded, giving Paul one last look. 

The club was too loud to have a proper conversation, and he and Freddie had a lot to talk about.

Without any prompting, Jim took Freddie’s hand in his own and began to lead him out of the club. The singer’s heart leapt at touch. He still couldn’t believe he’d found his soulmate. It was a welcomed shock.

Together, they made their way out of the club and onto the lamp-lit street. Jim’s ears were ringing from the music of the club. Cool rain showered around them, a welcome relief from the summer heat. The cement sidewalks and black streets glistened like diamonds. 

“Wait, wait!” Freddie called, urging Jim to stop. “My car- shit, Paul drove us here!” Freddie realized, wiping the rain out of his eyes.

“I took a cab,” said Jim. “Would you be alright if we took one back to my- your- or-?”

“I would, but-” he averted his eyes to the ground. “I can’t- if the press got a photo-”

“I understand. No public transportation,” said Jim.

“I suppose your place is too far to walk?” 

“Unfortunately.”

“Damn,” Freddie swore. He sent a glance back to the club’s door. “I’m not going back in there to beg for my keys back.”

“That’s alright,” said Jim, the cogs turning in his head. “I have an idea.”

\--- -

The electric buzzing of the doorbell rang through the flat. Thomas woke first. With an annoyed groan, he turned to the clock on his nightstand. 

Two in the morning was not a good time for visitors. 

When Thomas began to sit up to answer the door, John pushed him back down onto the mattress.

“Let me,” he whispered, pulling the sheets over his husband. 

The younger man gave him a small peck on the cheek and laid back down. John unraveled himself from the covers and stumbled out of bed. Whoever was at their door kept ringing the bell over and over. He closed their bedroom door to spare Thomas from some of the racket.

John wasn’t in a rush to answer the door. Whoever thought they could interrupt his good night sleep without a dash of spite was sadly mistaken. 

He pressed his face against the door jamb. “Who is it?” he asked drowsily.

_ “It’s Jim!”  _ the visitor called. 

Jim. Usually when Jim showed up on their doorstep late at night, it’s because he was broke after a night of drinking and couldn’t pay for a cab. John would let him in and Jim would stumble over to the couch. In the morning he’d be scolded by Thomas and lectured on the dangers of drinking (Thomas should know, he’s a bartender). Sometimes Jim would stay for breakfast, sometimes he’d leave before they woke up. 

John was worried about his ex-boyfriend, to put it lightly. Jim wasn’t some freeloading drunkard, but he was hurting. He needed something Jim couldn’t give him anymore.

With a sigh, John unlocked the door. 

It was raining outside. Jim stood before him, soaked to the bone with a huge gleaming smile on his face. 

“Hello, John,” he greeted warmly. His attitude caught John off-guard. “Mind if we come in?”

“We?” asked John. He wasn’t in the mood for entertaining guests. 

Jim nodded and looked to the side, his expression brighter than he had ever seen. John followed his ex’s eyes to a man who was just out of view, standing somewhat awkwardly away from the door. He wore a fashionable pair of faux leather trousers, a red t-shirt, and a black jacket. The man looked like any other guy Jim could’ve picked up from a club- except for the fact that he was instantly recognizable.

John’s jaw dropped. His eyes widened comically. 

“Freddie,” he breathed. 

The rockstar sent him a timid smile. “Hello,” he said. “You’re John?”

The blonde nodded. He hoped he didn’t look as starstruck as he felt.

“Jim’s told me a bit about you,” he sent a loving look to his soulmate before turning back to John. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

“Of course,” he said immediately, glancing to his ex-boyfriend.

The other man had a faint blush on his cheeks and a look in his eyes that John had never seen before. John smiled. 

“Come inside, why don’t you?” said John, stepping to the side. 

“Thank you so much-” Jim walked into the flat with Freddie on his heels. “I know now isn’t a great time.”

John closed the door behind them. “It’s perfectly fine- more than fine, as long as you tell me about this-” he gestured between Jim and Freddie. “What happened?” he asked quickly. 

Freddie and Jim locked eyes. Slowly, intimately, Jim took Freddie’s hand in his own. The singer’s nervous stance instantly relaxed, and he leaned in closer to Jim, shoulder to shoulder with his soulmate. 

“We met at Heaven,” said Jim, keeping his loving gaze on Freddie. “He took the stool next to me and asked for my name.”

“How romantic,” the blonde cooed. “What did you say to him?”

“I asked for his name,” said Freddie. 

“You’re kidding,” John gasped. “So you’ve had  _ Jim Hutton  _ on your skin this whole time?”

The rockstar frowned. “Yes- there are more Jim Hutton’s in London than you would think, dear.”

“Oh, of course- I can only imagine,” he said. “Lord knows how hard it was to just get in touch with you- but trying to get in touch with a complete stranger? The odds are just- well, you know.”

There was a lull in the conversation. John stared between Jim and Freddie, Jim and Freddie, Jim and Freddie, his mind racing. This was Freddie Mercury- the greatest singer in Britain, if not the world. John should be more hospitable, offer him a cigarette, a drink, anything. 

At the same time, it was two in the morning. This was just Jim- just Jim and his soulmate. Jim was family. John could be honest with him. The pampering and congratulating could wait for now. 

John rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d love to stay up and talk to you all night, but I have work in the morning, so-”

“Go back to bed, John,” said Jim, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Hell, it  _ is  _ morning,” John mumbled sleepily. 

He gave Jim a quick hug before turning to Freddie. 

“He’s your problem now,” John joked, nudging Jim with his elbow. His ex smiled and shook his head, used to John’s antics. 

Jim pushed him towards his bedroom door. “Goodnight, John,” he said warmly.

“Night, baby. ‘Night Freddie,” said John as he strolled back to his bedroom. 

As quietly as he could manage, John closed the bedroom door and slipped back into bed, careful not to jostle Thomas. He pulled the covers back over himself and sighed happily, glad to be back in the warmth of the bed.

“Was that Jim again?” whispered Thomas. 

“Mhmm, and that’s not all,” John planted a quick kiss on his soulmate’s lips. “Jim met his soulmate tonight.”

Thomas shot up in bed. “Oh my God! Really?” he said with wide eyes. “But that- that means- is  _ Freddie Mercury  _ in our living room right now?”

John nodded. Thomas squealed. 

“Oh my God- I can’t believe-  _ oh my God!”  _ he exclaimed and jumped out of bed. “I’m sorry- I’ve got to- I just want to-”

“No, babe-” John grabbed his wrist before he could get any further. “Let them be for now. The press is going to bother them enough.”

Thomas looked from John’s hand on his wrist to the door and then back to John. He sighed, and after a moment, climbed back into bed. 

“If I hear creaking from that couch tonight, we’re getting a new one,” Thomas decided grumpily.

“Nothing we haven’t done, love,” said John, pulling Thomas closer to him.

Thomas threw his arm around John and cuddled into his chest. “I love you,” he whispered, giving John a long kiss.

John smiled. “Love you too.”

. . . .

Freddie traces his fingers along Jim’s jawline, smoothing his thumb over his five o’clock shadow. 

“How long have you known?” Freddie asks carefully, suspecting the truth but foolishly hoping it wasn’t so. 

“Years,” Jim says. He feels Freddie tense in his arms. “I tried to get in contact, I swear I did- but I didn’t want the press or the public or anyone involved- I wanted it to be  _ us.” _

“That’s how I always wanted it, too,” Freddie says. He licks his lips. “Was it okay? Meeting in Heaven?”

“Oh, it was perfect,” Jim chuckles. 

He pauses for a moment, staring into his soulmate’s chocolate eyes, taking in the warmth of his skin. Unshed tears of relief pool in both of their eyes. This is everything they’ve been waiting for. 

“Freddie?” he asks.

“Yes, darling?”

“I love you.”

Freddie smiles widely, his worries and insecurities long forgotten. 

“I love you too.”


End file.
